Childhood brought me no warm blankets. There were no bedtime stories to think about as I fell into sleep. No comforts that would ease my anguish.
Navigating life has been odd for me. Definitions of comfortable meant for me the lack of internal pain. That’s probably not how most people would describe it.
Comfortable is defined as relaxed and free from physical pain. A question like — Are you comfortable or shall I turn the heat down?
None of this silliness would bring me comfort. When your inner being is torched with abuse and your soul stilled by neglect, what does a comfortable pair of shoes mean to you? How would a soft chair help you?
There is no comfort for the brokenhearted.
The first time I felt comfort was probably when I held my first child. There was something in her spirit that sparked life in me. The hope that things would be different.
I am sincerely sorry to every human being that has a hard time finding comfort in this harsh place. We’re told by the unbroken to stop drinking, exercise more. Stand in the way of the righteous, not sinners.
Oh brother. I’m so weary with trying to do the right thing for everybody else. I just want to find comfortable. You and I both know a pretender I am not.
Comfort is found when a brokenhearted person is healed. Your socks feels better. Your morning coffee is just right. A bubble bath is a spring of life.
Comfort in nature was something I didn’t find — until I did.